


The Unforgiving Forest

by ArsenicHazard



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Enchantment, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Lumberjack, Magic, Magical Forest, Mania, Obsession, Willow Nymph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:22:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26490343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArsenicHazard/pseuds/ArsenicHazard
Summary: The origin story of an original character named Joku.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 1





	The Unforgiving Forest

It had been a calm, sunny day in the forest when the young man had first heard the soft voice floating through the trees. The sunlight fell upon the forest floor in little patches between the leaves that crunched under the lumberjack’s boots. He had lived in these woods his whole life and he knew there was a certain magic to the area, but as a child he had found that no matter how much he tried to chase it, the magic would elude him. As he grew, he stopped searching for the magic that appeared in the corners of his vision. The blink of a faerie or the soft hoof beats that could be a deer, or forest spirit. He lived a comfortable life knowing they were there, even if he wasn’t able to be a part of it.

But when he heard the beautiful voice in the woods that day, he was entranced. The young man, just old enough to be declared a man, turned from the path he had set out, ignoring his chore to follow the song to its singer. He lost track of how long he had been following the song, his mind only set on finding her. The lumberjack cut through thick bushes and branches, finally reaching a glistening pond and a clearing. He stayed hidden behind a tree in the wood, peering out into the open, the sun shone down on the most stunning young woman he had ever seen.

There, attached to the willow by the pond, was a forest nymph. She was singing gently as she leaned close to the water and braided a strand of her long emerald hair. Her eyes were closed, thin fingers working deftly to weave her hair. The young lumberjack felt his breath catch in his throat, slowly setting his axe down at the edge of the wood, wandering closer, his eyes only fixed on her.

“I like your song..” He murmured after finding his voice. Her eyes opened, shocked for a moment before she broke into a smile. She straightened, her hands leaving her hair to rest on her hips.

“What are you doing so deep in the forest alone?” She questioned, watching him move closer and standing at the trunk of her willow. “The woods are dangerous for humans.”

He puffed his chest a bit, straightening. “I’m not scared of the woods.”

“Well then you are a fool,” she laughed. His expression softened, in love with the sound. He wanted to listen to her laugh for the rest of his life. 

“Have you lived here forever?” He asked, tilting his head.

“I’ve been here as long as I have been alive. This is my home.”

He nodded a little, looking down at the dirt as he shuffled his feet. “Can I spend time with you? You’re uh- really pretty..”

The nymph seemed to consider it for a second, watching him with a happy expression. She rarely met humans being so deep in the forest. She had heard about their kind and true hearts from other fae and this seemed to ring true with this young man. “Only a little while, you mustn’t stay here after dark.”

He was about to protest that it was hardly noon when he noticed how the light was darkening in the sky. How long had he spent walking? How long had actually passed?

She seemed to notice his confusion, giggling to herself. “You aren’t used to being around magical folk, are you?” He shook his head sheepishly. “Time acts a little different this far into the woods; one minute it’s daylight, the next you’ve spent hours without even blinking an eye.”

“But-”

“I told you. The woods are dangerous for humans. You should run along before you get lost.”

“Come with me,” he finally said, moving closer to the willow, reaching for her. He didn’t want to tear himself away from her beauty, no matter what it took. He grasped her hand, gazing up at her with wide brown eyes. “Come home with me.”

She held his hand for a moment, finding his persistence rather endearing, but shaking her head. “This is my home,” she hummed, pulling her hand away.

He felt his heart sink, inhaling, “Can I see you again?”

“You know where I will be. Run along.”

The lumberjack nodded, the smile returning to his face at the thought of returning to see her again and hear her sing. He finally stepped back, though it took a lot of willpower on his part, leaving the clearing as the sun dipped below the horizon. He picked up his axe, heading back the way he came, though it seemed to take ages comparatively. His mind was full of thoughts of the nymph in the willow, realizing that they had barely spoken and yet the whole day had passed. Had he really been there that long? It was as if her voice put him under a spell. He hadn’t even asked her her name! He made a mental note to ask when he returned, tempted to turn around and let his heart carry him back to her. Tempted to never leave her side again.

He was going to make her his. He just had to.

He was in love.

That night, the lumberjack dreamt of the forest nymph, the way her soft green hair seems to glow in the sunlight, the way her eyes shone when she spoke. Her song was still stuck in his head by morning.

Days turned to weeks, every minute he got away from doing his chores he was making his way back to her clearing, listening to her sing and watching her. She enjoyed the simple boyish attitude he had, thinking nothing of it. He was just a human after all.

Every night he would ask her to come home with him, and every night she would turn him down, telling him to run along home.

He would bring her flowers, gifts, anything he could think of to sway her to love him. He barely went into the village anymore, forgetting about the world. She was his world now, but she kept refusing his advances. The sorrow that he felt every night slowly morphed from sadness to agony. It pained him to leave her, her magic lacing into his heart with every moment he stayed next to her, disrupting his thoughts and his way of life. Unaware of how she was affecting him, he continued to fight for her affections.

“Marry me,” he said softly one day, sitting under the willow tree, gazing at her, a fistful of flowers clutched in his hand. This was not the first time he had proposed, nor would it be the last.

She giggled at his antics, finding herself feeling a bit greedy for his attention. She had never had someone love her before, and although she knew it could go nowhere, she had grown fond of having someone swooning over her every waking moment.

“You know I can’t, my dear.” She hummed, reaching over to touch his cheek. He leaned into her hand, eyes closing, starved for her touch.

“You can,” he protested, “one day you’ll marry me. One day.” He promised. He set the flowers at the bottom of the trunk, listening to her sing softly as she stroked his hair, his eyes closing once more...

“Run along, my human.”

Was it night already? His eyes flickered open, glancing up at the reddening sky and feeling his stomach drop. Time passed too quickly.

“Come home with me.” He asked again, his proposals like clockwork. She shook her head again and this time, his brow furrowed. He picked up his cloak, touching her hand once more before heading back down the familiar trail to his home. Each step seemed to hurt in his bones as night fell, his mind reeling, his thoughts straying away from sadness to annoyance.

How could she continue to deny him? Did she not realize that they were meant to be together? He would love her! He did love her! Had he not shown her how devoted he was? What was keeping her from him?

The next day, the young lumberjack did something a little different. Setting out at dawn, he picked a bouquet of flowers, travelling back to her willow, a twinge of ice slowly forming in his veins. This time, his other hand carried his axe.

Reaching the clearing by early morning, he set his axe down out of sight, stepping through and smiling as he saw her. She was leaning against a branch that hung over the clear pool, one hand in the water, swirling it around absently. He moved closer, setting the flowers down among the dozens of others he had brought.

“Do you like when I visit?” He asked softly, rolling up his pant legs and taking off his shoes so he could set his feet in the water.

“I do.” She replied, not looking up from where she was busy watching the little fish swim about.

“Do you like that I bring you flowers?” He prodded.

She looked up finally, meeting his eyes. There was nothing but love in his expression and she beamed. “They are lovely, my dear.”

He nodded in affirmation, falling silent for a while. He watched her as she moved closer, reaching up for her hand. She took it, humming a gentle lullaby.

“Do you like me?”

She giggled. “What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one,” he said.

“Yes, I like you.”

“Do you love me?”

She fell silent, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Because I love you,” he continued, inhaling. “I would do anything to get you to love me. I want you to love me. I-” his grip on her hand tightened, “I need you to love me.”

Even under the warm sun, the forest nymph felt a chill run across her skin. This had gone too far. The magic had clouded his mind too much.

“I think you should run along, my dear,” she whispered.

He got up, out of the water, moving closer to the trunk of the willow.

“Come home with me.” He declared. “Marry me, I will take care of you. I will love you for as long as I live.” He gathered all of the flowers that had accumulated over weeks of proposals, desperately pushing them into her hands. “Why won’t you come home to me?”

She looked down at the flowers, her expression losing its smile. “This is my home.”

The sun was beginning to fall beneath the tree line, dimming the clearing as she set the flowers down in the water, letting them float.

“This is where I belong,” she affirmed, turning to look at him once more. 

His face was contorted by heartbreak. Hot tears ran down his cheeks as he furiously pushed them away. “But you belong with me!”

“Run along.” She said firmly, finding no joy in this.

He inhaled, wiping his tears again, setting his jaw and straightening. He turned, rushing out of the clearing and into the thick woods.

The young man didn’t go home, though. His hand followed a familiar path along the hilt of his axe, lifting it and walking a few more steps into the underbrush before he stopped and pressed his back against a tree. He clutched the axe close to his chest, his breath coming out in shallow gasps as his heart broke all over again. Squeezing his eyes shut, he sunk to the forest floor, just sitting there for some time, cradling his axe.

Slowly, the tears stopped coming. Slowly, the pain converted to anger. The love became an obsession. They belonged together. She belonged with him. She belonged  _ to  _ him.

He would stop at nothing to make her his. He sat against the tree until the sun was far below the horizon, only patches of moonlight reaching the forest floor. With ice in his veins and a clear head, the lumberjack finally stood, his grip resolute.

The woods were silent as he moved back towards the clearing, peering at her sleeping form against the willow. 

He would not go home without her tonight.

Stepping into the clearing, his blade glinted in the moonlight. His boots were silent as he crossed the mossy patch, raising his axe and swinging it just like he had done every day of his life.

Metal connected with wood and the nymph screamed in agony. The trunk was thick, but the young man made quick work with his skill, beads of sweat running down his temples as he ignored her cries. This was his love. She was his.

When there was no more support for her, the forest nymph collapsed from the tree, her legs touching the mossy ground for the first time. The tree cracked and collapsed into the still pool, the forest alive with her blood-curdling screams. Crimson dripped from his blade and the decimated stump that was left in the willow’s wake. He let his axe lower, moving over to her crumpled body, grabbing her wrist and dragging her to her feet.

“I love you,” he panted, adrenaline and desire running through him.

She only cried harder, her once glowing skin pale and ashen. Blinded by the magic that had consumed his heart, he dragged her away from the clearing, stopping to lift her in his strong arms after she collapsed once more. Axe in one hand, his bride-to-be in the other, his feet needed no guidance as they headed through the forest back to the path to his home. Back to their new life.

The further she was taken from the clearing, the weaker her cries became, her magic and strength seeping from her. Her hair began to brown like deadening leaves, her grip on his shirt weakening.

“Don’t worry,” he grunted out as he saw his home begin to come into view. “We will marry. You will learn to love me the way I love you.” He looked back down at her, his eyes flicking over her beautiful form, her long soft green hair, her shining eyes. As beautiful as the first day he had seen her.

“You will bear my children,” he continued as he approached his cabin, throwing open the door, dropping his bloody axe at the threshold.

She could only shake her head, desperate for him to realize his actions, but her sobs fell on deaf ears. He set her on his cot and she dragged in a shallow breath, each movement becoming more and more difficult than the last. He laid down next to her, wrapping his arms around her and smiling faintly to himself. All those days of falling asleep thinking of her, now they were coming true. His love was complete.

Finally, her breath no longer filled her lungs. She exhaled, her gaze glassy and her brittle hands cold. Her magic faded with her.

He woke to the warm sun, but his love was not next to him. Her face frozen in fear and pain, she was just a willow carving now. He let out a shout of shock, the events that transpired finally cleared of his trance. He scrambled out of bed, clutching her wooden body, sobbing and crying out for her to return to him.

Without her willow, she wilted with all of the flowers that he had picked for her. He could not take the beauty for what it was. He simply had to pluck it and force it to die. The forest was unforgiving of those who took what did not belong to them.

He grieved for weeks with her next to him. Never again would he be able to hold her hand or hear her voice. Never again would he fall in love.

Burying her by his cabin, he continued to hum the notes of her lullaby that he remembered, visiting her bloody, broken willow every chance he could until the blood dried and the evidence rotted away. 

Months of monotony brought a sudden change when he reached the willow to find a small creature on the willow stump. The lumberjack, now older and greyer with grief, approached the small mass, eyes widening in shock as he looked over a small patch of minty green hair and leafy skin. A child.

Her child.

He took the baby into his arms, holding it to his chest and rushing back to his cabin. This was the last piece of her that he could cherish and he vowed to protect the small boy with his life.

He held the child as he sat next to his love’s grave, delicately touching the leaves that grew from the boy’s pale skin.

“This is your home now... Joku.”


End file.
